Page 109 of His Sassy Omega
“She was fine in her bouncy,” Quinn told me.
He was constantly telling me that I didn’t need to pick one of the twins up every time they made a noise. I told him to mind his business and did it anyway.
Quinn lost the battle he was having with some red tissue paper, and crumpled it into a wadded-up ball, before putting it in the top of a gift bag. “I don’t know how Wade makes this stuff look so fancy. It’s almost as bad as plastic wrap. That stuff is the devil.”
I bounced Rory in my arms, her warm weight perfection. Patrick seemed content in his bouncy for the moment, softly making noises and entertaining himself. Rory was the louder of the twins. She was the first to fuss about anything, and she made her demands known with a loud fierceness. Patrick was very chill and mellow, hardly ever fussing over much of anything. I loved them both equally and tremendously, and more than I ever thought I could love anything. Except maybe their daddy.
“Fuck!” Quinn hissed, throwing wild eyes my way frantically.
“Language,” I admonished, for the one hundred and twenty-sixth time that day. I had no doubt our children’s first words were going to be of the four-letter variety. I was looking forward to gettingthatphone call from preschool.
“What’s wrong?” I kept my voice calm. A calm papa was a calm baby, and I didn’t need Rory in a panic over nothing.
Quinn was tossing shopping bags here and there, then sat back on his knees. “I forgot to get any stocking stuffers. Santa has to fill the stockings. I’m the worst parent ever! I told you I would suck at this!”
“Now who's being dramatic?” I sing-songed to Rory, who gave the cutest little baby giggle, or her version of one anyway. “Daddy is silly, isn’t he? Yes, he is.”
I didn’t even need to look over at my mate, to know he was giving me the finger. “Fuck right off, Lach. Right off. Santa eats the cookies, and drinksthe milk, and fills the stockings, and leaves the presents. That’s how it’s done. And, I havenothingfor our stockings!”
“I’ve got it covered, babe.” The ring box was burning a hole in my office drawer, the only place I thought my nosy mate wouldn’t go snooping for any of his presents.
“You do?”
“I do,” I assured him, bouncing Rory harder. She chortled, her little hands holding mine tightly.
While I’d been signing for packages, and carrying bag after bag from Quinn’s shopping trips, I’d been taking notice of his purchases. While Quinn had all the major gifts covered, from the twins, all the way down to each of my brothers and anyone in between, I’d realized he’d forgotten stocking stuffers.
“When she pukes all over you, I don’t want to hear you whining.” He wadded up more tissue paper and added it to another gift bag.
I stuck my tongue out at him. “She wouldn’t dare do that to her papa.”
“Good luck with that. This is my fourth shirt today.” He pointed to a fresh stain. “I gave up after that. I’ll shower before we go to your mom’s and change.”
Rory took that moment to do exactly what Quinn had warned and hurled warm, stinky, regurgitated baby milk all over the front of me. I grimaced as I felt a glob make it past the collar of my shirt, and slither down my bare skin.
Quinn gave me an ‘I told you so’ look. “Guess we’ll both be taking showers.”
“Together?” I waggled my eyebrows at him while mopping at our daughter’s front with a blanket made for these things.
“Not if you want to get there on time.” Quinn looked at the clock, then pointed to his wrist, in a tick-tock motion. “We need to be at your mom’s in half an hour.”
“Fine,” I pouted, standing with Rory. She tugged at my hair with one pudgy hand. “I’ve got Thing One, you get Thing Two.”
Quinn planted Patrick on his hip like he’d been doing it his whole life. “Let’s do this.”
Hours later, I had‘Die Hard’playing softly for background noise, as I filled the twins’ stockings. Rattles, teething rings, and even some candy they can’t eat, but it’s Christmas. I know they won’t remember, but I plan on taking tons of pictures. I want them to believe in Santa and his magic, as long as possible. My gut is churning with nervous anticipation, my hands clammy and sweaty. I keep having to dry them on my flannel pajama pants.
We’d gotten home from my mom’s a little while ago, exhausted from the festivities and carrying in all the presents the babies had received, but weirdly wound up too. Between my family and what we had bought them, we could put half the presents away for next year, and the twins would still have more than enough.
Quinn entered the room, stretching his long, lithe frame. I watched him hungrily, my wolf humming in appreciation. My mate was beautiful, and pregnancy had filled him out in all the best ways. He flopped on the couch, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Kids are down. Hopefully for a couple of hours. They were so tired, but fought it hard.”
“Too much excitement.” I finished with the kid's stockings and moved on to mine. Yeah, I’d bought stuff for Quinn and my stocking’s. I wasn’t about to have to try to explain why Daddy and Papa’s stockings were empty in the future pictures. “You want to help with this, or be surprised in the morning?”
“Will helping you get you naked and in bed faster?” He gave me a dirty smile, and my cock hardened from just that look. “I have plans for you tonight, alpha.”
I wiggled my butt against the backs of my thighs from my kneeling position, feeling the plug move inside me. I bit my lower lip, moaning as the tip brushed my prostate. I’d planned to surprise Quinn with the plug, wanting him to fill me up tonight. Maybe I’d slide down his fat cock, and ride him like a cowboy. “Mmmm, I can’t wait.”
Quinn heaved himself off the sofa, kneeling next to me and taking his stocking down from the holder. Maeve had gifted us with the stocking holders, each one hand-sculpted by her. A big silver wolf for me, a sleek black leopard for Quinn, and two little gray wolf cubs for the twins.
